


One Good Deed

by Paia_Loves_Pie



Series: MystradeStoryTime [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, MystradeStoryTime, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:34:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22026418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paia_Loves_Pie/pseuds/Paia_Loves_Pie
Summary: Mycroft owns a pawn shop and antique store. He likes to deduce the histories of items that come in.One day a gentleman brings in what is clearly a well-loved family heirloom.
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes & Greg Lestrade
Series: MystradeStoryTime [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1432798
Comments: 27
Kudos: 73
Collections: Mystrade StoryTime





	One Good Deed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Scaredycattales](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scaredycattales/gifts).



> This fic was originally written and posted as a series of tweets on my Twitter account @paialovespie under the hashtag #MystradeStoryTime, between December 22 and December 29, 2019. This fic is intended as an informal tale, and it is unaltered and unedited from that posting except for some formatting, tense, and typo corrections for clarity in this format.
> 
> For my Mystrade Family with love. 
> 
> Gifted in particular to Scaredycattales in thanks for a lovely story they put in my DMs the other day. I hope you all get to read it someday too.

Mycroft owned a pawn shop and antique store. He liked to deduce the histories of items that came in. One day a gentleman brought in what was clearly a well-loved family heirloom. When Mycroft explained that its only real worth was its sentimental value, the man's face fell but he pawned it anyway. Mycroft could tell his circumstances were dire so he paid him twice its value and allowed the man extra time to pay it back.

Mr Lestrade came in regularly to make little payments when he could, so it wouldn't be sold. Then one day, he doesn't show up.

The absence wasn't entirely unusual. Fully forty percent of pawned items are not reclaimed in the end.

But...

Mycroft had a feeling. Instead of placing the item with the others in the 90-day waiting period before resale, he set it in his desk drawer and waited.

After a week, he sent a formal letter to the address on file as a reminder...just in case. It was returned, unopened. Lestrade had moved and left no forwarding address. He called the contact phone number that was provided. The number was disconnected.

After wrestling with himself, Mycroft paid a visit to the address. It was a block of run down flats in a tired old neighborhood.

"That guy?" The landlord said. "Yeah I remember. Quiet. Looked fresh divorced, 'cus when 'e were kicked out, he didn't have no possessions to clear out. I tried to give 'im a bit of time to make up the extra, but when he were three months behind on the rent, I 'ad to do what I got to do. This is a business, not a charity."

After a few more questions, Mycroft ascertained that the landlord didn't know where Mr Lestrade was now, and didn't have a way to contact him. No details on next of kin or any friends. Mycroft never put the item up for sale. Occasionally he pulled it out of his drawer, tuned it over in his hands, and wondered where Mr Lestrade had gone.

About a year later, Mycroft received a text from Sherlock who said he was sending one of his Network over to courrier an item he needed evaluated for authenticity. It's for a case, he said. A vital piece of evidence.

Just as the shop was about to close for the night, the bell rang over the doorway. A man in a dirty brown coat was very carefully holding a small box in his hands. His grey hair was shaggy but clean, and his boots, once good quality, were now nearly worn through. He was clearly part of Sherlock's Homeless Network. Although Mycroft usually deduced furniture, he saw the man's story in his trouser hems, fingernails, the well-patched backpack he carried. Once a man of character. Careful with his belongings. Used to do a lot of walking, now does a lot more.

His stance said he was used to carrying out important tasks with authority and confidence but the slumped set of his shoulders and his lack of eye contact say it had been a long time since anyone payed him any respect. Despite his run down appearance, Mycroft recognizes Mr Lestrade instantly.

Mycroft invited the man to sit while he waited for the item, a Chinese hairpin, to be identified and appraised. He offered him a cup of coffee. He notes that Lestrade cast an interested eye over the trinkets case where jewelry boxes, watches, and other small heirloom items are kept.

Mycroft was curious, but unwilling to ask further about his circumstances - he didn't want to embarrass him and he was unsure what to say. Instead, he wrote Sherlock a note, disclosing information about the jade hairpin (an item more important than its appearance might suggest). He also included a hundred pound note, and asked Sherlock to look into Lestrade's history. He seemed like a quiet, dutiful man, and Mycroft felt unexpectedly compelled to help him. Perhaps it was the careful way he appreciated the items in the shop - their history and craftsmanship. He gave Lestrade the note for Sherlock, handed him 20 pounds for his help, and asked him to return the next day if he wished to run a small errand for Mycroft as well. He had an idea. He didn't want to meddle, but more, he didn't want to see this man so downtrodden either.

The next day, Lestrade returned with another note from Sherlock. Mycroft invited him to look around while he read the letter. Sherlock had gathered quite a bit of information in a very short time, but Mycroft was not surprised. According to the letter, Lestrade was a former sergeant, dismissed from NSY because he corrupted a piece of evidence that was crucial to a case. Statements from his team suggested he had left it unattended in his vehicle, while helping a man suffering an overdose in an alley, thus breaking the chain of custody in favor of saving the life in front of him.

Lestrade, already in debt due to a recent divorce in which his lawyer failed him utterly, was unable to find another position in law enforcement. Even in his tiny run-down flat, he didn't have enough savings to last him more than a few months, and he sold most of his possessions.

Armed with this knowledge, Mycroft recalled an email from a colleague who worked in antiques, transforming and restoring wood pieces and clockworks. He was looking for an apprentice to train. Not a young person - but a person of character and dedication. Mycroft didn't know of anyone at the time, but now...he had an idea. Writing a note to his colleague, Mycroft explained that Lestrade was both careful and dedicated, and that if he took him on, Mycroft would vouch for him. He handed Lestrade money for the tube and payment for the errand and asked him to deliver a package to his friend.

He ducked into his office, retrieved the heirloom, and placed it carefully into a small box and sealed it. The pocketwatch had ceased to tick, and though it was only worth about a hundred pounds, he was certain it was worth quite a lot to Lestrade. He asked his colleague to restore it. He instructed Mr Lestrade to deliver both the letter and the box to his colleague. As Lestrade left, Mycroft felt strangely bereft. He hoped he had done right, and not overstepped. He didn't want to treat Lestrade like a charity case...but...sometimes, people just needed a little help.

A week later, his colleague thanked him for sending Mr. Lestrade. He agreed the circumstances were unusual, but he had so far proved to be a quick and dedicated student. He had a backlog of timepieces to restore just now, (hence the need for an apprentice), and it may be some time before he could finish the one Mycroft sent to him. 

Four months later, the bell tinkled above the doorway and a very different Mr Lestrade stood on the threshold. He was holding a small box and his posture was tentative.

"Mr Kingsley asked me to return your watch, Sir," he explained, holding the box out in front of him. 

Mycroft smiled at him, glad to see him. His glance gave some clues about what had happened in the interim. Lestrade looked healthier, his clothes, although not new, were clean and tidy. He was clearly sleeping better, and he had a relaxed, cheerful air around his expression. A smell of sawdust and oil hung about him, and Mycroft could tell he'd been staying in the apprentice's studio next to Kinglsey's workshop. Not fancy or big, but safe and stable. Mycroft opened the box, delighted to see the metal gleaming and hear the small ticking inside.

Mr Lestrade's gaze sharpened as, for the first time, he realized what it was. He had long given up hope that it was still around, not having seen it on his previous visit. And he had looked carefully to make sure. Mycroft pulled out the item and showed it to him. Mr Lestrade was visibly overcome.

"How much to buy it back, sir?" he asked, a tremble in his voice.

"I'm afraid it's not for sale," Mycroft explained softly. Greg's face crumpled as he nodded, resigned. "But," Mycroft said, "it is free to the right home."

Mr Lestrade placed a hand over his face, hiding tears.

"Please," he said as Mycroft placed it softly in Lestrade's palm, closing his fingers around it. "You must let me reimburse you."

"You already have, and more," Mycroft explained, "when you rescued my brother from an overdose in a dirty alleyway at the expense of your own career."

Lestrade's mouth dropped open in surprise as he pressed the watch to his chest.

"But if you feel compelled to return a favor," he continued, "I would very much like to take you to dinner."

Mr Lestrade - Greg - flushed and nodded.

"Tomorrow?" he asked.

"Tomorrow," Mycroft agreed.

~ <3 ~ The Beginning


End file.
